


Insomnia

by BubblegumCannibal



Category: Deus Ex: Human Revolution
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-04
Updated: 2014-03-04
Packaged: 2018-01-14 13:37:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1268392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BubblegumCannibal/pseuds/BubblegumCannibal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>100 Word Prompt List: Sleep Deprivation</p>
            </blockquote>





	Insomnia

**Author's Note:**

> Characters: Adam Jensen  
> Fandom: Deus Ex: Human Revolution  
> Word count: 587 words

> _“Even if she be not harmed, her heart may fail her in so much and so many horrors; and hereafter she may suffer—both in waking, from her nerves, and in sleep, from her dreams.”_  
>  ―  **Bram Stoker, _Dracula_**

Only few have actually seen it— the twisting and turning as he attempted to sleep. It’d start off normally. Where ever he had dozed off, the man kept silent. Always at the beginning did he seem the most relaxed. A mind at peace, as one would say. Yet, not even a few minutes later would he start muttering to himself. Sometimes it was apologies. His way of asking for forgiveness, yet within his dreams never receiving them.

Solitude. His heart craves for solitude. Understanding the fact that one woman had fallen from his life and the other was literally blown from him, the hound of an officer knew that with being built as a monster, one had to accommodate. Love was no longer a factor in his life.

Just a fuel for nightmares.

Love is what causes his nightmares. Every bit of emotion. Lust. Passion. Excitement. All of it. It was the gasoline that stoke his fire.

Yet, it is the only thing that never leaves the forefront of his mind. The breathing of his other. How she felt under his fingers – flesh or synthetic. How the bond between bodies left him breathless… Still, with all that in mind, gazing up or down into his lover’s eyes, she would always say the same thing.

“You killed me. You let me die. You could not save me. You failed me.”

_You failed me…_

**You failed.**

Here Adam would start to jostle left and right. In bed, his legs would slide and his head would shake at the sight of her. With Megan, her mouth would overflow with the crimson of her internal life as her body would fall limp in his hands… or she would be the one with the gun to his head, itching to pull the trigger.

He was lucky if she pulled the trigger on him. Though, most of the time, it was variations of her death.

Then there was Katrina.

Taking slow, steady breaths, he could feel the cold steel of his pistol resting at his temple again. The look of fear in her eyes and the shit eating grin coming from Quincy. Even so, every time this dream came back to haunt him, all he can remember in full depth was the explosion, then holding Lady Katrina’s charred remains as she released her final breath.

However, those were just the recent ones. He had more. Much more. Ones that rose bumps on his dampening skin. Starting with the death of loved ones and ending with Mexicantown.

Always ending with Mexicantown.

After going so long with it, Jensen does wish for them to end. He’s done with the tossing and turning. He hated waking up every hour or so after he had finally gone to sleep to find that a pillow had been thrown across the room or that with all the stress on his body, any fresh wounds had town from his hands subconsciously pulling at them as if he were trying to remove and destroy his augments from his own sleeping body.

These dreams are what keep Adam awake at night. The things that simply kept him nocturnal. A constant insomniac.

For once, even on vacation, he would like to wake up peacefully rather than in a cold sweat, just to pull himself from bed and stare at the empty shell of a monster in the mirror.

For once, he would like something cathartic to infiltrate his dreams.

But it doesn’t seem as if that day is coming any time soon.


End file.
